


In The Booth

by LilacGirl05



Category: Teen Fiction - Fandom
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fist Fights, Fluff and Smut, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Podcast, Smut, Swearing, Useless Lesbians, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:27:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28393854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacGirl05/pseuds/LilacGirl05
Summary: Skylar James. Your average, slightly bitchy 17-year-old senior, who has a personality that matches her lavender coloured hair and black nail polish: Cute, but semi-angsty. She can't STAND fellow senior and mortal enemy, Vanessa Wright. With her perfect body and looks, Wright is a goddess in the highschool hierarchy.Thankfully, the two of them don't have any classes together this year, and therefore no reason to socialize with each other at all.That is until they do.•••What happens when a group podcasting assignment turns into something bigger?Complicated feelings may ensue, but what if this truce in their rivalry doesn't meet the standards of their respective reputations?In the end, what happens in the booth, stays in the booth.WARNING: Mature Language and Explicit Content (Sexual Themes)THIS BOOK IS STILL VERY MUCH A WORK IN PROGRESS.•••
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

"SENIOR YEAR, DAY one," I mumbled to myself as I entered the hell-hole known as Oakson Highschool. While shuffling past my peers, I recognized almost everyone, except for a few obviously new students who were anxiously staying to one side of the hallway.

It's funny because I remember feeling the same way when I was a freshman.  
Or at least I did for the first week.  
I didn't care about school after that.  
Highschool just became a part of my daily routine, one of which I couldn't wait to be over.

I guess it wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't been teased daily, by the most annoying chick in school: Vanessa Wright.  
God, I hate her. With her perfectly straight raven hair and amber eyes, she's gorgeous.  
No, not gorgeous.  
Stunning.  
And I hate it.

From the first day of freshman year, to now, I swear she's been out to get me.  
Whether it was teasing me about my clothing, or throwing a handful of immature insults my way, she constantly bugged me.  
It was quickly spread around the school, and now everyone who's anyone knows of our 'rivalry'.  
It's Team Skylar vs Team Vanessa.

And unfortunately, she's winning.

But thankfully, it's senior year, and we have completely different interests.  
Vanessa likes math, while I like theatre.  
She's a smart cheerleading chick, while I'd rather be singing show tunes in the mirror.  
She's a bitch 100% of the time, while I like to think of myself as 60% jerk and only 40% bitch.

So, unless a magical wizard comes down from above and curses me with a life of pain and suffering, we shouldn't have any classes together.

Besides, this year I had a plan.  
And it was, 100%, absolutely, fool-proof.  
1) Avoid contact with Vanessa Wright at all costs.  
2) Don't think about how pretty, smart, and/or charming she is.  
3) If she comes near you, roll your eyes and casually exit the situation.  
Like I said before, foolproof.

As I continued walking through the hallway, I spotted a familiar person.  
After making a beeline for their locker, I stood behind them and grinned stupidly.  
"Hey, Marie." I happily greeted one of my oldest (and craziest) friends.

She had finished opening her locker and jumped when I spoke. She turned around to look at me, and immediately lost the air of confusion.

"Skye!" She exclaimed happily. "How's it going? Gosh, it's been like forever since I last saw you!"

I nodded and hugged her. "It's been too long."

"Way too long!"  
When I released her from the hug, she was grinning from ear to ear.  
"Ooh! I have a present for you!"

I smiled at her and rolled my eyes. "My birthday's in March, Ria. It's only September 5th."

She nodded knowingly. "I know, but I figured that with your interesting past at this school, you might need this."

Marie reached into her violet coloured backpack that hung off of one of the hooks inside her locker. She dug around for a moment, giving me the chance to look at the interior of her locker.

It was decorated with motivational quote magnets, a small strand of white fairy lights, and some Polaroids of her closest friends. There were also a variety of gems and bottles on the top shelf, with a small dream catcher hanging above them.  
The dream catcher had intricate white, purple, and blue flowers designed on it.

Maybe she can catch me some good dreams. I thought sarcastically. It would be a nice change from my usual, boring, non-dream filled sleep.

I studied the photos again and quickly noticed that I was in one of them.  
It was of the time when the two of us went to the beach in a junior year because apparently, the "spiritual levels" at Port Richard were extremely high at five in the morning. Marie was determined to start our day off right with a relaxing way to destroy negative emotions in our lives. And so, we had sat on the pier at five o'clock in the morning, watching the sunrise and breathing in the salty-sweet Miami air, whilst writing our worries down on pieces of paper and burning them, before throwing the ashes into the water.

It works every time, according to Marie.

After searching for a minute or two, Marie finally produced a small, grey, satin bag out of her backpack. She handed it to me.  
"Open it."

I nodded slowly and pulled on the drawstring, opening the bag.  
Inside, I spotted a small, pale green crystal.  
My hand reached inside and took it out, holding it in the hallway light so I could study it better.

"Wow, it's stunning, Marie. But uh...what's it for?"

She sighed. "Skylar Adams, don't tell me you forgot again."

"Heh.." I tucked a strand of lavender hair behind my ear, embarrassed.

Marie shook her head. "It's a crystal. This one's made of Jasper, and it empowers your spirit and supports you through times of stress. It will protect you from negative vibes while inducing your levels of courage, quick thinking, and confidence."

I chucked and rubbed it in my hands. "Thanks, Mar. I love it."

She squealed and hugged me tightly. "I'm so glad! For a minute there, I thought you had the idea that healing crystals and witchcraft weren't real or something."

"Never. Besides, it's your life. I'm just here for the ride, baby."  
Neither of us said anything for a few seconds before we both burst out laughing.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. 

8:24 am

"I'd better get going," I told her, "Class starts in five."

Marie nodded. "See you at lunch!" She cheerily stated, before turning back to her locker.

I headed down the hallway once again, planning to make one more quick stop before my first class.  
My eyes scanned the corridor, searching for a certain someone.  
More specifically, the elusive and most definitely exotic, Owen Jashoni.

Owen and I had met in sophomore year in Drama Club. He had auditioned for the part of the Baker in "Into the Woods", while I tried out for the Witch.

In the end, we both got our desired roles.  
Let's just say that it was a very fun production...

And from that production onwards, Owen became one of my best friends. We both liked theatre, we both enjoyed soft-serve vanilla ice cream with sprinkles, and we both had a burning hatred for Vanessa Wright.

It's a match made in hell, right?  
I was the first person that he ever showed his video game ideas to, and the first person to discover that he was gay. Owen's also the one who convinced me to dye my hair this rocking shade of light purple.

Plus, he and Marie had always gotten along well!

And so, in a matter of forced hangouts (by yours truly) and lunch periods spent together, the three of us became our little squad of misfits—The adorable witch, the tech-savvy gay, and the moody yet lovable girl with the lavender coloured hair. Boom, three of the best friendships in the world.

When I reached his locker, Owen's eyes were glued to his phone screen.  
He was probably looking at pics of Zac Efron or something, but hey, I can't judge.

"Yo!" I exclaimed, snapping him back to reality.

Owen looked up and he shoved his phone into his pocket. "Oh, hey, Skylar." He said nonchalantly as if he didn't care.

I sighed. "Dude, it's been like a month since we've seen each other. Gimme a hug."

"It's been two months."

"Well then, I haven't seen you for two months. Even more of a reason for you to hug me!" I stretched out my arms.

"Alright, fine." He said smiling, breaking his moody facade.

We hugged and broke apart after a few seconds.

"How was your summer in London?" I asked.

Owen had family who lived in Britain, so every second summer, he would go with his parents and younger sister, Emily, to visit them.  
Sure, we had called and texted, but it wasn't the same as hanging out with him in person.

"It was good," he replied, smiling. "My cousin took my sister and me to Big Ben again."

I nodded and leaned against his neighbour's locker, studying him.  
Owen's black hair was parted a bit to the side, and he had a bit of smooth stubble on his chin. His white and red letterman jacket had a large N on it, with 'Jashoni' written across one sleeve in small writing.

"Sounds like a blast. Wish I could've gone," I said.

He nodded and laughed enthusiastically. "That would be one hell of a plane ride."  
\- - -  
When I finally reached Room 244, after talking to Owen for a few minutes, I grinned. This year, I was in Ms. Stewart's Drama Class. Just like last year. And the year before that. AND the year before that. She'd been teaching me drama since freshman year, and she's great at it.

She does just the right amount of group projects, plays, exercises, ice breakers, and she even has the iconic theatre teacher look. A high messy bun, with a scarf and glasses. Bonus points if she's wearing a shawl. She's a spitting image of Ms. Darbus from High School Musical and I LOVE it.

"Skye!" A chorus of voices called when I entered the room.

A wide grin appeared on my face as I headed over to the group of people in the back corner, who called my name.

"Hey, pitches. I'm back." I said, holding out the 'a'.

The next thing I knew, I was being bombarded with hugs and affection. When they finally stopped attacking me with hugs, I laughed.

Darla Blanche, a sweet and saucy brunette was the first to speak after me. "We missed you at the party."

"Yeah Adams, we needed your runs during karaoke." A blonde hair and blue-eyed prick named Chase Jackson added.

I shrugged. "Sorry guys, I had work."

"Fuck work." Martin Jones said matter of factly, "You missed trivia. Musical. Trivia. I had to beat these losers all on my own."

I'd met Martin in junior year, and we instantly clicked. The same can be said about Darla and Chase. I met them here, in the Drama room, and now they're my friends.  
We aren't best friends, but we're close enough.

"Ohhh, so next time Mickie D's puts me in for a late-night shift, I'll just decline and get fired so I can hang out with you geeks, then?" I asked sarcastically.

The three of them nodded and said, very seriously in unison, "Yes."

And so, in a matter of forced hangouts (by yours truly) and lunch periods spent together, the three of us became our little squad of misfits—The adorable witch, the tech-savvy gay, and the moody yet lovable girl with the lavender coloured hair. Boom, three of the best friendships in the world.

When I reached his locker, Owen's eyes were glued to his phone screen.  
He was probably looking at pics of Zac Efron or something, but hey, I can't judge.

"Yo!" I exclaimed, snapping him back to reality.

Owen looked up and he shoved his phone into his pocket. "Oh, hey, Skylar." He said nonchalantly as if he didn't care.

I sighed. "Dude, it's been like a month since we've seen each other. Gimme a hug."

"It's been two months."

"Well then, I haven't seen you for two months. Even more of a reason for you to hug me!" I stretched out my arms.

"Alright, fine." He said smiling, breaking his moody facade.

We hugged and broke apart after a few seconds.

"How was your summer in London?" I asked.

Owen had family who lived in Britain, so every second summer, he would go with his parents and younger sister, Emily, to visit them.  
Sure, we had called and texted, but it wasn't the same as hanging out with him in person.

"It was good," he replied, smiling. "My cousin took my sister and me to Big Ben again."

I nodded and leaned against his neighbours' locker, studying him.  
Owen's black hair was parted a bit to the side, and he had a bit of smooth stubble on his chin. His white and red letterman jacket had a large N on it, with 'Jashoni' written across one sleeve in small writing.

"Sounds like a blast. Wish I could've gone," I said.

He nodded and laughed enthusiastically. "That would be one hell of a plane ride."  
\- - -  
When I finally reached Room 244, after talking to Owen for a few minutes, I grinned. This year, I was in Ms. Stewart's Drama Class. Just like last year. And the year before that. AND the year before that. She'd been teaching me drama since freshman year, and she's great at it.

She does just the right amount of group projects, plays, exercises, ice breakers, and she even has the iconic theatre teacher look. A high messy bun, with a scarf and glasses. Bonus points if she's wearing a shawl. She's a spitting image of Ms. Darbus from High School Musical and I LOVE it.

"Skye!" A chorus of voices called when I entered the room.

A wide grin appeared on my face as I headed over to the group of people in the back corner, who called my name.

"Hey, pitches. I'm back." I said, holding out the 'a'.

The next thing I knew, I was being bombarded with hugs and affection. When they finally stopped attacking me with hugs, I laughed.

Darla Blanche, a sweet and saucy brunette was the first to speak after me. "We missed you at the party."

"Yeah Adams, we needed your runs during karaoke." A blonde hair and blue-eyed prick named Chase Jackson added.

I shrugged. "Sorry guys, I had work."

"Fuck work." Martin Jones said matter of factly, "You missed trivia. Musical. Trivia. I had to beat these losers all on my own."

I'd met Martin in junior year, and we instantly clicked. The same can be said about Darla and Chase. I met them here, in the Drama room, and now they're my friends.  
We aren't best friends, but we're close enough.

"Ohhh, so next time Mickie D's puts me in for a late-night shift, I'll just decline and get fired so I can hang out with you geeks, then?" I asked sarcastically.

The three of them nodded and said, very seriously in unison, "Yes."

I laughed. "Will do." My eyes scanned the other students who were steadily filing into the Drama classroom.  
"Hey, where's Ms... Stewart?"

I turned back to them, only to see looks of confusion on their faces.

"I dunno," Chase said, shrugging. "She should be here soon, though. Class starts in-"

"Fifty seconds." Darla cut in, looking at her watch, "Forty-nine... Forty-eight... Forty-seven-"

"Yeah yeah, we get it. Shut up." Chase interrupted her, putting a hand on her watch.

She rolled her eyes and shoved his hand away. "Rude."

He turned to look at her. "I can live with being rude. At least I'm not an obsessive neat-freak."

Darla gasped. "I am NOT obsessive!" She said, ironically taking off her glasses and cleaning them. "I just like when things are in order, and not all over the place."

I began to zone out of the petty argument and turned around to look out across the familiar classroom.

A few small tables sat along the walls, with the centre of the room being a wide-open space. There were multiple costume racks places along the back of the room (a few metres away from us), and the walls were painted black. Two windows were on the wall opposite the door, each having closed white blinds on them.

It was like my second home. The one place where I could express who I was.  
And now that I was a senior, I was sure to rule the drama room.  
Both during the class, and the club.

Theatre is SO important to me and I love it with a burning passion.  
Nothing could ruin my happy place.  
Nothing at all.

A few moments later, Ms. Stewart walked into the room, her bun bouncing on top of her head, and pushed up her spectacles onto the bridge of her nose.

"Alright, everyone!" She announced, stopping in the middle of the room. "Get in a circle on the ground, please!"

All of us students started moving towards the center of the room and sat down in a decently shaped circle.

As Ms. Stewart began explaining the instructions, she was interrupted by the bell, signalling that class had started.  
At that exact moment, a girl dashed through the door and sat down in the circle, apparently unseen by Ms. Stewart.  
She sat across from me, and I immediately stiffened.

You've gotta be kidding me...

It was her.  
The prettiest and most annoying person in school.  
And she was staring at me, smirking, with that perfectly beautiful face.

Vanessa blew me a kiss and grinned evilly, before turning her attention back to Ms. Stewart.  
Darla sent me an apologetic look, and Martin sighed next to me.

Drama class just got a hell of a lot worse.  
She wasn't supposed to be here.  
She didn't even like theatre!

I bit the inside of my cheek, annoyed, and tried to let it go.  
But my brain wouldn't let me.  
You could say I was being dramatic, but hey, if the person you dislike the most showed up randomly in your favourite class, you'd be pretty damn pissed too.

All I could think about was her, and how she was in my class, ruining my day, and probably now, my entire semester.  
Damn.

This was NOT a part of the plan.  
\---


	2. Chapter 2

\----  
SHE WAS THERE, AND I WAS less than thrilled.

Why the hell is she here? I thought furiously. This is MY turf. She knows that. God, I bet she did this just to piss me off. It'll wreck her senior year, though. Why would she sign up for a Drama Class if she's wanting to focus on math and science?

Ms. Stewart continued to take attendance, introduce the course, and explain today's assignment, but I wasn't listening.

I was too preoccupied trying to figure out what Vanessa was doing in my Drama Class, and how I could act civil without ripping her face off.

Eventually, I got tired of yelling inside my head, so I tried to clue into what Ms. Stewart was saying.

Out of her entire paragraph, I was only able to comprehend two keywords, "Collaborative assignment."

I sighed.

I hate group projects with passion. Maybe it's because I'm an Aries, or because I don't like people, or maybe it's my control-freak nature. All I know is, I HATE group projects, not because of the work, but the people.

Don't get me wrong, I can work with people. I don't absolutely hate everyone in this class. They're cool. It's just that I might have to work with her.  
And knowing my luck, I probably will.

"As it is your first minor project of the year, I'll be pairing you off. No buts, ifs, or problems. You work with who I assign you to. End of story."

She pushed her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose and continued.

"The assignment is simple enough. As per last year, we are showing our support for the Miami Broadcasting Company by partaking in a podcasting assignment."

I looked at Martin and winked.   
Last year, we had been partners for the project and had gotten a really good mark. Our podcast was talking about zoo animals. Yeah, it was kinda stupid, but it worked because we got an A on it, which is pretty great if you ask me.

Ms. Stuart explained our task, telling us that we were to record our audio and post it in a podcast format to the Broadcasting company's 'local talent' page.

"Partners will be..." Ms. Stewart flipped a page of her clipboard and studied the names, "Mitchel Bower and Luke Greybar, Celine Johnson and Chase Jackson, Darla Blanche and Quinn Kennedy..." I began to zone out again, only listening for my name. Songs from 'Heathers' played in my brain as I stared at the wall behind Ms. Stewart.

Heather, Heather, Heather, and someone. Heather, Heather, Heather and babe. Heather, Heather, Heather--

"Skylar Adams and Vanessa Wright."

Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw.

My mind snapped back to reality, as I heard my name spoken.   
I looked across the circle to see Vanessa, a smug grin on her face as she stared right back at me.

I mentally screamed in fury.

Whispers filled the classroom as we stared at each other. No doubt they were talking about us. It was common knowledge that we didn't see eye to eye. No one knows why, and honestly, neither do I. We just never got along.

It could've been that she was a bully to me in freshman year, but then again, she always had been, and honestly, I didn't care too much.

I mean, yes it severely pissed me off when she mocked my brother for his weird fashion sense, and I hated when she would whisper dirty secrets about me to her stupidly pretty friends, but she wasn't the Regina George of the school. We don't have one of those here. There are the popular people, but there aren't actually any reigning "Mean Girls".

Yes, we have jerks who think it's okay to vandalize the memorial statue outside the school, and people who thrive from bringing others down, but no one is actually that cool.   
There are just sly foxes who steal self-confidence from others, and vicious snakes who suck the joy from your life.

Personally, I see myself as a Vulture, but Marie says I radiate the energy of a Hawk. Something about how I'm not "vulture material"? I am dunno.

But moving on from that tangent, Vanessa was different from the rest of the jerks. She wasn't a fox or a snake.

No, she wasn't a mammal or reptile at all.

She was an eagle. A mighty, confident, daddy's girl eagle, who is just about perfect.   
And when an eagle and hawk go for a waltz in the sky, let's just say that questionable things happen.

And so, Ms. Stuart called out the last pair of names and then set us to work straight away.

I sighed and walked over to where Vanessa had moved to. She was sitting at a table on the far side of the drama room, writing something in a spiral notebook. I sat down across from her, and she looked up from the page, quickly slamming the book shut. I could've sworn I saw a glimpse of panic in her eyes before she cleared her throat. 

"Skylar." She greeted me with a fake semisweet voice.

"Vanessa," I replied, with the least amount of enthusiasm I could muster.

"I guess we're partners, huh?"

I nodded, definitely thrilled. "Yup. We get to make a podcast together. Fun."

She smiled and leaned closer, her face next to my ear. "Mhm... Hey, your hair smells amazing. What shampoo do you use?"

"I...um...Pantene?..." I replied, moving my head away, confused.

"Ooh! Same here! The coconut one? Or mixed berry?"

"Mixed berry, duh."

"Nice! I use coconut. It makes me feel like a tropical princess." She said, smiling.

"Well, you are pretty enough- Wait, no." I shook my head, remembering that I hated her. "I don't like you."

Vanessa laughed and twirled a piece of her raven hair around a finger absent-mindedly. "You keep telling yourself that," she said uninterestedly, "You were totally flirting with me just now."

I raised an eyebrow. "I think you're getting your dreams confused with reality, Wright. Besides, you have a boyfriend."

She smiled and opened her notebook, beginning to doodle in it. "Oh please. As if I'd spoil my dreams by putting someone like you in them. And as for Jason, he doesn't care. He gets girls flirting with him all the time."

I put my elbow vertically on the table, resting my head on my hand. "I'm sure he does. And what, pray to tell, am I?"

Vanessa looked up from the squiggles and stars she'd drawn and begun listing off things. "Obnoxious, rude, weird, horrible at comebacks, I could go on."

I laughed dryly and glared at her, making direct eye contact. "Oh, please do."

Her amber eyes stared right back into mine, seemingly unfazed. A smirk rested on her face. "Alright then. You're judgemental, bitchy, close-minded, horrible at math, annoying, and you dye your hair stupid colours."

I gasped, faking hurt. "You bitch! '#69 Lavender Feilds' is a classic colour in the L'Oréal hair dye collection! Have you ever seen the results?"

Vanessa nodded, pulling a hair clip from her hair and fixing it. "I have, and unfortunately, they aren't very attractive."

Just as I was about to shoot back a response, Ms. Stuart began to approach our table, no doubt wanting to see progress.   
When she reached the table, the two of us smiled innocently.   
"Well girls, I take it you've been talking?"

We nodded.

"We aren't sure what to discuss yet, though," Vanessa admitted.

Our teacher thought for a moment. "Well, I suggest you figure it out soon. I want recordings started tomorrow."

"Sounds good, Ms. S.," I said, smiling at her.

Ms. Stuart adjusted her glasses as she walked away, going to check on Darla and Quinn.

"So," Vanessa started, once Ms. Stuart was gone. "About this podcasting project...What are we gonna talk about?"

I shrugged. "Whatever will piss you off the most."

"Rude."

I winked. "You know it."

She sighed, obviously annoyed before perking up with a thought. "We're talking about mocha frappes and how they are the most superior variations of coffee out there."

"How about no?"

"Yes!"

I rolled my eyes. "We are not going to talk about Starbucks."

"Well, then we can talk about math! Name the first hundred digits of pi. Go."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes! It's 3.1415926-"

"How the hell can someone like math? It's math!" I exclaimed exasperatedly.

She shrugged. "How the hell could anyone like you? You're well, you."

I stuck my tongue out at her. "Haha. Hilarious."

Vanessa smiled, flipping a page in her notebook. "It really is, isn't it?"

"Mhm, definitely." I looked around the room, and upon seeing other groups starting to write ideas down, I decided that we'd better get going. "So, if we aren't going to talk about overpriced drinks or stupid calculations, what will we talk about?"

She shrugged, going back to doodling in her book.

"Godammit, Vanessa! We need an idea!"

She smirked and started drawing arrows small arrows. "I know. That's why I'm so reluctant to trust your idiotically small brain with thinking of one."

I scoffed at her, pulling out my phone and googling 'Podcasting Ideas' because honestly, Google knows all.

"Wow, turning to technology already? What happened to the imagination, Skylar?"

"Do me a favour and shut up," I replied, scrolling through the search results.

"No."

"Oh my God, just shut up! "

"No!"

And so, for the rest of the period, we continued to argue, never really getting anything productive done. Like, at all.

By the end of class, I was absolutely done with hearing her stupid voice.

This was definitely going to be a long project.   
\----


	3. Chapter 3

\----  
MATH SUCKS AND every time I have to solve a question, I want to light my textbook on fire, throw it out the window, and stab myself with my Number 2 pencil.

It's stupid, and I'm never going to use most of these concepts I learn.

Yes, I'll totally be in a grocery store and need to find the area under a curve.  
I mean, it's essential to my buying of pop tarts, right?

According to my math teacher, it is, and hoo boy, it's dumb enough to make me scream.

And not in a good way.

It doesn't help that later tonight I have to meet up with Ms. Starbucks to work on the project.  
Spending ninety minutes in a drama classroom with her is bad enough, but two hours with her alone in the computer lab?

Lord, give me strength.

Between the arguing and yelling at each other yesterday, we did reluctantly agree on meeting in the computer lab at 5 pm. It was open certain days throughout the week, and Tuesday (today) just so happened to be one of them

The thing is, I bet she won't even help with the project. She'll just rant on about calculus or something.

Oh, and that's another thing that bugs me!  
She knows that I'm shit at maths, so what does Little Miss Wright do? Oh, she asks me math questions of course.

And they aren't even the fun ones that you can use Fruit Loops as counters for!  
(Don't pretend like you didn't use cereal for a fun addition and subtraction lessons in kindergarten, I know you did.)

No, instead they're insanely difficult University level math questions that my Applied Math brain can't seem to understand, let alone solve.  
She does it to humiliate me, just like everything else she's ever done.

The bell rang, and I looked at my paper, to see that I had finished it.

Phew.

I packed my stuff up and left the room as quickly as I could.

While I had to see Vanessa tonight, I did plan on having a nice lunch with Marie and Owen.  
The three of us were going to spend only forty minutes of bliss that we got, sitting under the Magnolia tree that was planted next to the soccer field.  
It was kind of 'our spot' and had been since I can remember. So when I shut my locker, lunch in hand and headed to the school exit doors, I was feeling better.

I was hoping they could help me figure out how to make tonight bearable.

When I got to the tree, Owen and Marie were already sitting there, talking and laughing.

As I approached, Marie waved at me, grinning wide. "Skylar!"

I chuckled and sat down next to them, setting my lunch on the ground. "Heyo friends."

Owen took a bite of his half-eaten sandwich as I got settled. "How was Foods, Mar?"

"Good!" Marie replied, opening her water bottle. "Mr. Dysquik is awesome! He lets us eat our projects after they've been graded!"

Owen giggled. "Free food!"

"Exactly!"

I pulled the thermos out of my lunch bag, unscrewing the lid and starting to eat my ravioli slowly. 

The three of us ate silently for a minute or two, before  
Marie starting giggling.

I raised an eyebrow, smiling. "What?"

She set down her salad and turned to look at me. "Oh, nothing. It's just the fact that you get to spend your evening with Ms. Vanessa Wright, is all. I think it's hilarious."

I groaned and stabbed a forkful of ravioli, popping it into my mouth. "Don't remind me."

Owen chuckled lightly, staring me down knowingly. "Shut up. Don't pretend that you don't enjoy arguing with Vanessa."

I rolled my eyes and sarcastically replied, "Sure, I do. It's so much fun."

He stood up, stretched, and then went climbing the tree that we were all sitting under. As Owen struggled to put his foot on the knot in the bark, he said, "You know, she totally loves it too."

Marie nodded, finishing her salad. "She does. You can see it in her aura. It always brightens when you two are going at it."

I let out a long, drawn-out sigh, and upon deciding that I was no longer hungry, I closed my thermos.

Owen had finally made it to the big branch that he could sit on. And so, he did.  
He sat on it, swinging his legs and looking down at us.

Marie giggled and looked up at him from her spot on the grass. "You finally did it!"

Owen nodded happily, before glancing at me and laughing. I had back flopped onto the grass with closed eyes and was sprawled out as if I were dead.

"Hey, Skylar... Whatcha doing?" Marie asked. I heard the sound of Tupperware containers being shut.

"I am dead. There is no more Skylar. Only death remains."

I heard her and Owen sigh simultaneously. "Well, that's unfortunate," she stated.

"Indeed it is." Owen agreed. "Especially since we got those tickets for next Thursday night."

My eyes shot open and I scrambled over to where Marie was, sitting right beside her. "Tickets?! What tickets? Do you guys have tickets? For what? Are there three of them? Can I come? Oh please tell me I can come!" I was rambling on excitedly, thoughts of Vanessa having vanished from my head.

Owen laughed from above. "Well, I dunno. It depends if you like Panic! At The Disco."

I gasped and looked at Marie with wide eyes, bouncing a bit on the grass. "You guys got tickets to a Panic! concert?!"

She giggled and nodded. "Yup! Alex got them for us!"

Alex was Marie's parent, who also happened to be non-binary. In their divorce, they had gotten custody of Marie and her baby sister, whereas her mother got none of it. From what Marie told me, they divorced because of her mother's drug addiction, and for other personal reasons.

So, when Alex filed for a divorce, they made sure to try and get custody of the children. They won it, and now they, Marie, and little Johanna live in a cute three-bedroom apartment in the heart of the city.

I met Marie when her parents had been going through the divorce, and even with everything she'd been surrounded with, she was still an optimistic person. She's much happier now though, and will occasionally visit her mother who is now permanently in the hospital due to her addiction. It's not ideal, but it's the best place for her. Besides, Marie doesn't think too highly of her and probably never will.

"So! You coming, or what?" Owen asked, hopping down from the branch and landing on his feet. 

I nodded happily, snapping back to reality. "Of course! You guys are the best!"

While I live for show tunes, Panic! At The Disco is one of the "normal bands" that I love listening to. It appeals to the edgy wannabe emo in me, as it should. 

Marie flipped her hair off of her shoulder dramatically. "I know."

I was ecstatic! (to say the least)

I'd never been to an actual concert before, courtesy of having like, no money.

I mean yes, I work part-time at McDonald's, but most of that money goes towards my university fund.

Marie, Owen and I continued to talk about the concert excitedly until the warning bell rang. We had five minutes until class started, which was in my case, English. Groan.

The three of us said our goodbyes before we headed off to our respective fourth-period classes.

My class was studying Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet' in English class this week, and I was reading for Juliet.

Fun times.  
\---  
"There you are! I thought I'd been ditched."

I batted my eyelashes dramatically and did my best 1940's female celebrity voice as I sat down beside her, setting my backpack on the ground. "Me? Ditch a lovely gal like yourself? Well, I never!"

Vanessa scoffed. "Dork."

"Why thank you, madam." I continued, looking at her, before glancing around the broadcasting room.

There were three recording booths all lined up beside each other, complete with a desk that had a microphone and headsets sitting on top. Each desk had two swivel chairs behind it.  
Meanwhile, the smaller half of the booth had a bench and microphones inside of it.

The other half of the room was filled with rows of computers, all of them with a chair behind them. Vanessa and I were sat at one of the booths that lined the back wall. There was a door at the end of the room that was labelled 'green room'.

I looked at her laptop screen to see that she had already turned on the computer and pulled up Miami 17.8's 'local talents' page.

I tied my hair back into a loose ponytail before bending down and digging through my backpack. Eventually, I pulled a water bottle out of it.

"Thank God you brought that. I forgot mine."

I gasped as I set them on the desk before the monitor. "You, Vanessa Wright forgot something?! No way!"

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up. I was working the late shift last night and forgot to grab them from my basement."

I plugged the microphone into the computer and pulled the audio program that we were using up on the screen.

"Man, that sucks. Where do you work?" I asked fiddling with the headphones.

"Sol's, why?"

I shrugged. "Just trying to make conversation."

"Well you suck at it, so stop." Vanessa snapped, opening her spiral notebook and flipping to a note-filled page.

I laughed dryly, drumming a beat on the desk's surface. "Oh, she's angry today! That's fun."

She shot me a glare. "Can it, Adams. Let's just get this stupid project done."

"Fine by me," I replied, putting on my headphones. There was a strange tingly feeling in my stomach when she spoke to me, and I felt...disappointed when she stopped. And she was looking even prettier than usual. But why did I care?

Well, I didn't. Obviously.

And as for the whole talking thing, I'm sure it's just nerves for the project or whatever. Right?  
Sure.  
Besides, I've never liked talking to Vanessa Wright before now. She's a bitch and has been nothing but rude to me for as long as I've known her.

I internally sighed and tried to ignore the feelings, pushing them to the back of my mind.

Vanessa tied her hair into a messy bun and put on her set of headphones, pushing her notebook closer to me so that I could read it as well.

I figured that the best way to get rid of these unwanted thoughts would be to act as if everything was normal inside my head.

Just act how you normally do.

"We're talking about our opinions on adult stuff. Like taxes and pol-"

"Politics?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

She turned to look at me. "Did you just finish-"

"Your sentence?"

Vanessa glared at me. "Stop-"

"It." I finished, smirking.

"Stop finishing my sentences you-"

"Bitch?" I offered.

"I hate you," she stated, staring at the computer screen, a frown upon her face.

I grinned and began to read the notes she had prepared. "I know."

The strange feeling had returned and I wasn't sure of what it was. It felt nice but unfamiliar. Almost like an enjoyed arguing with her.

What if Marie and Owen had been right? What if I did like arguing with her? And what was that supposed to mean?

I shook the thoughts out of my head and bit my lip. I didn't like that sudden rush of emotions.  
Deciding that that was a problem for another day, I went back to work.

Once we had decided the main points of our podcast, and come to a compromise about what we were going to say, I remembered something.

"What about our fake names? Ms. Stuart said that she doesn't want people to know our real identities. Student security stuff, remember?" I asked.

"Oh yeah."

We sat in silence for a minute before I came up with a name for myself.

"Rayna Harris."

She raised an eyebrow at me, obviously confused.  
"What?"

I looked at her. "It's my fake name. So that I don't get found out."

Vanessa nodded, understanding. "Right. Well, if you're Rayna, then I'll be Talia. Talia Willows. "

I stifled a laugh. "Willows? What are you an elf?"

She ignored me and went back to looking at the screen. "Whatever. Let's just do this thing."

I agreed and pressed the play button on the audio program, glancing at the notes one more time, before the screen again.

"And we're rolling."  
\----


	4. Chapter 4

\---  
"HOMICIDE IS ALWAYS an option."

Marie laughed as I chucked one of her decorative pillows at Owen.  
"Funny, but I'm not going to murder Vanessa Wright. That wouldn't make my stupid emotions go away."

He tossed it right back to me. "But it would prevent them from growing stronger and making you do something stupid."

I groaned and tossed the pillow towards the ceiling, then catching it. I kept doing this as a way of relieving my stress.

Yeah, it didn't work. 

"This is so dumb. Feelings are dumb. Especially unknown feelings. They're the worst. And I still have to see her again to finish the damn recording!"

I saw Marie grin before she flopped onto her back beside me. "It's alright, young one."

It had been two days since Vanessa and I had started recording our podcast and we were only halfway done. I had had to work nights the past few days, so we hadn't been able to get together to record. Not that I was complaining, though. The less time I spent around Vanessa Wright, the better.

Aka, the less time I spend around her, the quicker these annoying butterflies would go away. I have no idea why she seems to affect me like this all of a sudden. We've argued with each other for years, so why do I suddenly not hate her guts?

I've never thought that I was gay. Yes, I've thought that girls were pretty, and I've never really noticed guys, but maybe I'm just not a romantic person? Sure. We're going with that. Yes.

Besides, I don't know if Mom and Dad would be okay with it. They've never like, said bad things about it, but they've also never been like "hey, let's go to Party City and buy a bunch of rainbow shit to show how much we support the gays!". 

So, my house is lacking in the rainbow department for sure.  
Whatever. Now is not the time to be questioning my sexuality. I don't even know how I feel about Vanessa, let alone other girls.

But hey, moving on from my internal crisis, Owen and I had gone over to Marie's house for the afternoon after school. We three hadn't gotten the chance to hang out much since school started (apart from lunch), so we decided to chill at our witchy friend's abode for the evening.

We were currently hanging out in her room, which can I say, is fricking adorable. Her walls had been painted a light brown, and forest green curtains hung above the windows. She had a bay window to the right of the door, and the front side of it had been turned into a small bookshelf. The seating area of the window was lined with a soft, grey cushion and two pink throw pillows. In a corner, her birdcage hung from a rod in the wall. Marie's pet bird, "Bud", sat in the cage, pecking at his feed and occasionally chirping. He was a surprisingly quiet bird and didn't squawk as much as others did. But he was a very pretty bird, having a mixture of dark blue, light blue, green, and red feathers. He likes to sit on my head, heh.

On the other side of the room, there was an altar set up near her book-littered desk, with a lamp sitting on its corner. A circular, polka-dotted, light blue rug sat in the center of the room, near the end of her bed. There were a couple of pictures hung up on the different walls as well, including one of the three of us at Six Flags. Another showed a family picture, including herself, Alex, and Johanna. They had taken it in the park, in front of the blossoming cherry tree.

"Moving on from She Who Must Not Be Named," Owen began slowly, "The Broadcasting Club, led by yours truly, is doing announcements this year."

Marie nodded knowingly, resting her head on my chest. "So? It's been like that for years."

A grin broke out upon Owens face as he sat crossed-legged on the end of Marie's bed. "Yes, yes, you're very observant, Marie. But this year is different. Since we're partnering with Miami Radio for some broadcasting events, we need access to the room after school sometimes. And to make things easier, since I'm the leader of the club, they gave me a key to the broadcasting room!"

I gasped." Really?!"

He nodded excitedly. "Yup! I, Owen Jashoni, am one of the few students of our fine establishment to have access to a room in the school!"

"Yay Owen!" Marie exclaimed.

He squealed. "Yay me!"

I laughed, running a hand through Marie's hair idly.

"I can't believe we're seniors," she said randomly, humming at the touch.

"I know," Owen agreed. "It's bonkers."

A sudden knock on the door made us turn our heads.

"Mari?" A voice from the other side asked. "I brought you a snack."

Marie grinned and jumped up to open the door. Standing on the other side of it was Alex, holding a tray of freshly-baked cookies.  
"I thought you three would be getting hungry, what with all the gossiping you must be doing."

She laughed softly and took the tray from them. "Thanks!"

Alex smiled, while a baby sister wailed from down the hallway.  
"I should go check on your sister."  
They kissed Marie's forehead and waved at Owen and Me, before turning around and heading back down the hallway, bound for baby Johanna's room.

Marie was still smiling as she closed the door and went back to the bed, the tray of treats in hand. She set it down on the bed and sat beside me. At this point, I had decided to sit up.

Owen reached for a cookie and took a bite. "Mmm," he said, his mouth full of cookies. "Definitely makes my top ten list of great things."

I raised an eyebrow and chuckled, grabbing a cookie for myself. "What else makes the list?"

He shrugged. "The usual stuff. Things like Zac Efron, pride parades, Minecraft, and Broadcasting Club are on it, amongst other things."

"Zac Efron?" Marie asked, picking up a treat.

Owen nodded. "Yes, Mari. We've been over this. He's absolute perfection."

I shrugged. "I mean, he's cute I guess."

My tech-savvy friend gasped and put a hand over his heart, offended. "He's cute you guess? Have you ever seen his abs?!"

"No," Marie replied, looking up at the dream catcher that hung above her bed. "And I don't really want to."

He frowned. "But he's Zac Efron."

"And I'm Skylar. It's nice to meet you." I said whilst sticking my hand out to shake his.

Owen scoffed. "You guys have no taste."

Marie giggled, her eyes bright. She was usually relatively happy, but today she seemed even more peppy than usual. I was intrigued. Deciding to end our Zac Efron conversation, I tried to get her attention.

"Hey, Mari-Moo?" I asked her, moving closer and resting my head on her shoulder.

She stifled a laugh. "Mari-Moo?"

I put a hand over her mouth gently. "Shut up, I'm being adorable. Now, your best friend in the whole universe wants to know why you're in an extremely good mood."

I felt a wet tongue lick the inside of my hand, causing me to quickly jump away from her. "Dude! You just licked my hand!"

Marie shrugged, feigning innocence. "You did put it over my mouth."

I dried my hand on my jeans and looked to Owen, who nodded in agreement with Marie. "You kinda did, Skye."

I groaned and rolled my eyes sarcastically at him. "Thanks for your support, Owen."

He saluted me, before snatching another cookie from the tray.

"Anyways, what did you ask before?" Marie asked, turning my attention back to her current extra-happy attitude.

"Oh, I was just wondering why you're so happy."

She giggled. "It's nothing huge. I just got some new stuff for my alter and did my first cleanse earlier today."

I nodded, understanding. She was always excited about new witchcraft stuff. "Ah, that does make sense."

"Yeah!"

Owen swallowed the last of his cookie. "You'd never cast a bad hex on us, would you?"

Marie shrugged. "It depends on whether or not you guys give the last cookie."

I looked to Owen who was glancing at me, a mischievous smile on both our faces. The two of us looked at the lone cookie, smirking. Just as Owen went to grab the last cookie, his devious plot was intercepted by a Marie-barrier. She had jumped on him, knocking them both off of the bed and onto the ground.

"Don't you dare steal my cookie!" she exclaimed as they rolled around on the ground, wrestling.

"Skylar! Quickly!" he yelled laughing, trying to fend her off.

"No, you heathen!" Marie screeched, as I grabbed the last cookie and shoved it into my mouth.

"Sorry," I mumbled through a mouthful of deliciousness, shrugging my shoulders.

"That was evil." she declared, getting off of Owen and going back to sit down on the bed.

"Well, I am a very evil person."

Owen chuckled and stood up brushing himself off. "Oh yeah, that's for sure. You're an evil theatre kid."

I laughed before giving him a knowing look. "But Owen, all theatre kids are evil."

"I can vouch for that." Marie agreed. "You two can be pretty horrible. Especially when you steal a poor, innocent girl's cookie!"

Well excuse me, Marie, but they were chocolate chip.  
\---


	5. Chapter 5

\---  
THE FIRST THING I saw when I entered the girls' locker room was a group of boys, all huddled around one of the showers, tugging at the curtain. I could see someone's silhouette in the shower curtain, and the water was running.

She was telling the guys to "piss off" and "leave her alone", but it was to no avail. Yup, a girl was definitely in there and wasn't very happy with all the attention. And so, being the kind and decent human I am, I decided to get involved and save this poor girl from our perverted classmates.

I coughed loudly as I walked up to the boys, earning the group's attention. "Is this some sort of viewing party I didn't get invited to?" I asked.

One of them turned around and I recognized him instantly as being Mark Diole, quarterback of the football team and the best friend of Jason Martinez, Vanessa's current boyfriend.   
"Maybe. Why do you care?" he replied, smirking. The rest of the guys turned around to look at me as he spoke.

"Because I know for a fact that the person in that shower wants you to fuck off."

The boys "oohed", as Mark stepped forward to face me. It was at this point that I remembered he was at least half a foot taller than I was. His dark brown eyes stared at me menacingly, as if it was a crime for me to defend this student from an obvious violation of their personal space and privacy.

"Oh really? And who asked you to get involved?" he retorted.

As tough as I may be, Mark's tone still made my blood run cold. But I sighed and tried to repress my fearful feelings for my female friend's sake. "No one. I just so happen to be a decent person. Unlike you lot."

The boys behind him laughed at my insult, which caused Mark to lightly chuckle. "Oh really? Well, I'll finish your little rescue mission early for you then." He grabbed me by the front of my shirt and lifted me about a foot off the ground, staring me down hard. "Get lost freak, otherwise we might have another show to watch. And trust me, it won't be entertaining for you."

I narrowed my eyes and looked past Mark's shoulder to see a thin, pale arm reaching out of the shower and grabbing her towel that was set right outside the curtain. "Nice threat," I replied nonchalantly, drawing my attention back to the bully. "I bet you know all about finishing things early. Do the girls complain? Or is it more of a one-person event?"

His eyes widened with what appeared to be rage and he tightened his grip on my shirt. "That's it. I don't care that you're a girl. I'm gonna enjoy beating you to a pulp anyway, Adams."

I smirked to hide the nervousness that was rapidly growing in my stomach. "You can certainly try, Diole."

Mark gave me a sickly smile before he dropped me back to the ground, not wasting a precious second. The minute my converse touched the cement floor, his fist made direct contact with my gut. I cried out as I stumbled backwards, clutching my stomach. I glanced at him, my breathing uneven, and saw him advancing. As I stayed doubled over from the pain, he swiftly shoved me over to the wall and forcefully held me against it, my back pressed to the concrete.

As I struggled to break free from his grip, he smirked and brought his face close to mine. For a moment, I thought he would let me go.

"I could do so much worse to you. Do you want to see what happens next?" He asked mockingly.

I glared daggers at him, hoping he would decide to let me off easy.

Boy, was I wrong.

That's when he began throwing punches at my face. my vision started to go blurry. I tried to fight back, but my hits were weak compared to his, making it was difficult to get him off of me. They did little to nothing, as his grip on my arm tightened while he kept punching me, and I could feel my consciousness slipping away. The pain was intense, and I was certain that he had broken something. After a particularly hard punch, I slumped to the ground, pathetically defeated. My breathing was ragged, and I weakly touched my face, seeing blood drip down my hand. As I gasped for air, I heard the sound of a shower curtain being pulled back and hoped that I hadn't let whoever was in there down too horribly.

The last thing I remember was hearing a familiar-sounding screech of "Hey!" and seeing Mark's blurry silhouette, before I succumbed to the pain of a final blow that sent my head smashing against the wall, knocking me out cold.

\---

I woke up in a white room, where the fluorescent lights were bright enough to be seen from space.

And to be honest, they made the pounding pain in my head ten times worse. As I sat up, a groan escaped my lips. Apparently being beaten up hurts. Who knew?

"Hey, peaches." A familiar voice said from beside my bed.

I almost laughed in disbelief when I rubbed my eyes and realized who it was. "What are you doing here?"

Vanessa smirked in her usual Vanessa-y way. "Well, I couldn't just leave you on the locker room floor."

I raised an eyebrow and laid back down, as sitting upright hurt. "You were the girl in the shower?"

She nodded. "Yeah, and those creeps wouldn't leave me alone. Although I did tell Jason that they'd been trying to pull the curtain open, so let's just say that Mark won't be coming on a double date with Jason and me anytime soon."

My heart fluttered excitedly as she spoke, which seriously weirded me out.   
"I didn't know you cared about me, Wright. I would've thought you'd just leave me on the ground."

She shrugged. "Well, we do have to get that damn project done. And there's no way in hell that I'm going to do it alone. Oh and by the way, don't go picking a fight with Mark Diole again. It was pretty fucking hard to drag you to the nurses' office without drawing attention to us."

Looks like I won't be getting any thanks for trying to defend her, then.

I rolled my eyes at her last comment, twiddling my thumbs.

"So," Vanessa continued, "I asked your friend, Oscar or whoever, to wheel in a desk and mic for us. The project is due in a few days, so I figured if we get the recording done, I could edit it while you were recovering or whatever. They think you might have a concussion and don't want you staring at screens for too long at a time."

I was shocked that she had actually thought of me and what I'd be able to do. It was actually really sweet, which is odd for Vanessa Wright because she's well, Vanessa Wright. "Uh, thanks. That was a pretty considerate thing to do."

With an eye roll and scoff, she dismissed my thanks. "Don't get used to it. I just want this project done and over with. Besides, your weirdo friends demanded I stayed here so that someone would be with you when you woke up. Luckily, I have a spare right now."

That's when a vibrating noise drew her away from the conversation.

Vanessa took her buzzing phone out of her pocket before standing up from her seat beside my bed. "It's my boss. I should get this. Be right back."

I nodded and watched her leave, making me feel a twinge of jealousy. Surely she can spend some time with me? I mean, she doesn't consider me a friend, but I got beat up for the girl. The least she can do is stay and talk to me. But then again, my rational brain is reminding me that it's her boss. She has to take that call. It's probably important.

I sighed. This is just the stupid crush I have on her talking. Yeah, that's what I'm calling it: a crush. I figured that it may as well be official if I'm going to be getting jealous over her and everything.

I could see her through the glass door, standing there, with a hand on her hip as she leaned against the corridor wall. Vanessa seemed annoyed, her brow furrowed and her eyes dark.

And I'm not going to lie, her eyes made me exhale a breath I had apparently been withholding. They were piercingly blue and looked especially lovely when she was angry.

I shook my head and moved my eyes away from Vanessa, instead of glancing across the room to spot the wheelie desk that sat in the corner. A laptop and two pairs of headsets had been set on the desk, as well as one microphone.

Damn Owen, you did well for us. Thanks, man.

After a few minutes of looking around the room and trying to ignore the pain in my head, Vanessa came back in and sat beside my bed again. "My stupid boss is pissed that I'm going to be late."

I raised an eyebrow. She was late for work? "Why don't you just go then? We can do this another time."

Vanessa shook her head quickly. Almost too quickly, in fact.   
"No, uh, it's fine. I have more important things to do than make shitty cups of coffee for shitty customers while being paid a shitty wage."

I laughed. "If that doesn't describe every fast-food job out there, I don't know what does."

She chuckled, before biting her lip and exhaling. "Well, let's get to work. We have the stuff to get done."

"Yeah." I agreed, sitting up slowly and grimacing. I was still sore from being thrown around. Figures.

Vanessa went over to the desk and wheeled it over to the bed, before sitting back down and opening her laptop. She typed away for a moment, before turning the laptop so that I could see the screen as well. "Don't strain yourself. The last thing we need is for you to fucking break your back."

"I'm not going to break my back." I protested, trying to sit back up again just to spite her.

She rolled her eyes and casually shoved me back down into a laying position. "Can you not be a prick today?"

I smirked and decided to stay down this time, knowing that she was, unfortunately, right.   
"Maybe."

Vanessa moved the microphone so that it was in between us, and picked up a pair of black headphones, putting them on. She then placed the other pair on my head. I tried to hide my blush by 'wiping' my mouth with my sleeve and swallowing quickly.

Thankfully, Vanessa didn't seem to notice my stupid reaction because she was too busy looking out the door at the bustling hallway.

In the midst of my confused girl panic, I hadn't heard the end-of-day bell ring, so I didn't have time to hide my face from the outside world. It did seem strange that Vanessa Wright and I, known enemies, were sitting in the nurses' office together. A few students did double takes and stared, to which I glared at them.

They kept moving quickly enough after that.

Once the noise from the hallway had died down, Vanessa turned to me. "Alright, now we can actually start."

And so, we continued with our podcast. We ended up arguing for a solid half an hour and somehow managed to stay on topic. It was weird.

But for some reason, it seemed that our rebuttals and aggressive jabs were less hurtful than usual. Maybe it was the fact that I was hurt, so Vanessa was trying to be 'nice'.

And I didn't like that at all. Throughout the recording, I had to constantly remind myself that I don't like the bitch because she's always been well, a bitch.

But I digress, in the end, we did finish our recording session feeling mildly satisfied, which was a relief.

Vanessa had saved the track to her laptop and once we had taken off the headphones, she stood up.   
"Right. That was uh, good."

I nodded, noticing how she seemed a bit thrown off. I didn't want to pry or make her too annoyed with me, so I decided to just leave it alone.

"I have to get to work, so can you get Oliver to take this stuff back to the booth?" she asked, packing her laptop into her backpack hurriedly.

"Sure, as long as you remember his name is Owen." I corrected her, laying back down.

"Owen," she repeated, zipping up her bag. "I'm not sure why I'd try to remember such a boring name, but I'll try."

I scoffed. "And that's coming from someone named Vanessa? That's literally the most basic name I've ever heard."

Vanessa rolled her eyes and swung her backpack over her shoulder. "Whatever. At least I'm not a theatre freak."

"Theatre kid," I stated, giving her the middle finger.

She flipped me off just as easily, before heading to the door. Before leaving the room, she looked over her shoulder and remarked, "I'll edit the assignment. Feel better soon I guess, Adams."

"Thanks, Wright!" I replied loudly, making her glare coldly at me as she hurried out the door.

I wondered why she was in such a rush, before remembering that she had to get to work.

I realized that Vanessa works at Sol's, a local coffee shop downtown because we had discussed it earlier. I could picture Vanessa working there, dressed in a cute outfit with her hair styled in a messy bun, as she served coffee and shit.

Marie works there as well, and I know for a fact that they have to wear skirts as a part of their uniform.

That means that Vanessa has to wear a skirt.

This means that I might need to visit the cafe sometime.

Because you know, I might be thirsty.

\-----

About ten minutes after Vanessa left, a nurse came in and told me that I could go. She advised me to go to the hospital and get my head checked out, just in case their suspicions of a concussion were correct.

I thanked him for everything, then left the school with my backpack in hand. I didn't work tonight, so I walked home. As I turned down Washington Street, heading for West Avenue, I spotted the coffee shop that Marie and Vanessa worked at.

I made a mental note to go and see Marie at work sometimes.

Maybe Vanessa would be there too.

And if I was lucky, I could even get a drink.  
\---


	6. Chapter 6

\---  
THE AMOUNT OF stuff that can happen overnight is low-key scary. As Vanessa and I stared at each other from across the hallway, our eyes wide with surprise, all I could think was:

No fucking way.

She had sent me a screenshot of our podcast listed on the Miami Radio website, and underneath the title and our fake names, it read the number of recent hits---1,278. I have no idea how she got my number, but that was the least of our worries right now.

I actually had to blink a few times to make sure I was seeing things properly. For a minute, I had thought that being beaten up caused me to have vision problems but nope. It didn't. Once I was sure that I wasn't hallucinating, I replied to her text:

S: The hell is this?!

She responded right away:

V: Idk but it's kinda weird. I can't imagine anyone wanting to listen to your voice for an hour

S: Shut up

V: No u

S: Wow, you're so mature

V: Thanks, but can't say the same about you

S: Whatever, Wright

The numbers didn't lie. 

We eyed each other from across the hallway, both confused and a bit anxious. 

The podcast had practically blown up overnight, and if the hit views weren't enough, the comments were the cherry on top of this disaster sundae:

This was hilarious!

You two argue like an old married couple and I'm living for it.

When's the next one gonna be released??

Apparently, we were hilarious. What I did find funny was that the viewers thought the arguments were scripted. 

Spoiler alert: they weren't.

I shook my head and typed out a text to Vanessa.

S: What do we do?

Upon hearing her phone vibrate, Vanessa looked across and shot me a look before responding.

V: No clue. Probably just ignore it

S: Yeah I guess that makes sense

V: Do you have a better idea?

I rolled my eyes at her comment and went onto Google, searching up popular creators within the podcasting community. There were a few of them who published their works on the same site that we'd published ours on. I searched up Melanie Rock, one of the famous names I had noticed, and saw that her works were pretty well-known around town. They were on Spotify too, which is probably the best place for podcasts to be published. This was her job and by creating the shows, she was making decent money.

Wait. If they can get famous and make money for relatively little time or effort, then why couldn't Vanessa and I?

Is this me wanting to spend time with her, and using this podcast as a way to do so? Yes. 

Do I feel ashamed? Also yes. 

Is this going to work out? Probably not. 

But that's fine. Right?

Besides, I was running a bit low on money, despite my job at Mickie D's. There was a set of high-definition headphones that I'd been wanting to get, but I didn't have the money to spend on them. Imagine asking for $200 for a pair of headphones. This opportunity here was a way to make some dough while spending time with Vanessa. It would be worth it in the end. Or at least, hopefully, it would be.

I texted her, wanting to explain my plan:

S: Meet me in the bathroom. I have an idea

V: Do I have to?

S: Yes.

V: Fine. You get two minutes

S: Aight

I shut my locker and glanced at her, to see that she was looking at me confusedly. I shrugged and adjusted my backpack strap before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and walking to the bathroom, hoping that she'd like my idea. 

I mean, if she agreed to do more podcasts, that'd be cool. We could get to know each other or whatever. You know, in a totally platonic and not romantic kind of way.

God, I don't like this. 

\---

I sighed as I leaned against the bathroom wall, waiting for Vanessa to show. 

I hated myself for catching these feelings, and even more so for them being the first of this kind. It's like, I've never liked girls before. 

So what the hell's up with these butterflies, universe?!

My internal ranting quickly came to a halt when Vanessa came through the door, her schoolbooks sitting in her arms.

"Alright," she stated, leaning back against the counter. "What do you want?" Vanessa stared at me with confusion in her amber eyes. 

I cleared my throat in hopes of ignoring the fluttery feeling in my stomach. "So, I had an idea. You know how our podcast got like, a lot of hits?"

She nodded slowly. "It's hard to forget, honestly."

I took my phone out of my pocket and pulled up the page about Melaine Rock, shoving my phone in Vanessa's face to show her. "She's making good money by doing these podcasts."

Vanessa grabbed the phone and glared at me before skimming through the web-page."So what?"

I chuckled. "Sweet, innocent, naive Vanessa. Don't you get it? We could make good money by doing more episodes." 

She sighed and stood up straight, looking down on me by a few inches. "Why would people be interested in your opinions? We would just be wasting our time."

I raised my eyebrows, putting a hand on my hip. "You're kidding me, right? You saw those numbers. If we can get that many hits in one night, then who knows how many we'll get if we continue?"

"We would have to keep posting on that site. People would recognize us and we'd have to work together."

I shook my head. "That's where Spotify comes in. We'll use the fake names that we used for the podcast originally, and yeah, I don't want to work with you but I can handle it if it's for money."

Vanessa laughed dryly. "So we just make podcasts in some secret place and hate every second of it just for some quick cash?"

"Yeah, pretty much," I replied, nodding. 

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." She said, rolling her eyes and heading for the door. "Besides, where would we even record them? We aren't exactly friends, and the only street cred either of us actually has is about our little rivalry. So thanks, but I'll pass."

I chased after her and grabbed her arm a bit rougher than intended, turning her around to face me. "Owen has a key to the broadcasting room. We can go there like once a week or something and record it after school. We don't work every day, either so there's time after school."

She looked at my grip on her arm and panned her eyes up to look at me as the bell rang, signalling that class started soon. "You are insufferable."

I smiled and winked at her. "Only for you."

Vanessa inhaled sharply and shoved my hand off of her forearm. "Fine. I guess some money wouldn't hurt. I owe my sister for concert tickets anyway."

"Cool. We could meet on Friday after school?"

She nodded and brushed a strand of hair from the side of her face. "Sounds good to me. But don't think that I'll enjoy it."

I laughed. "I'm counting on it."

With a roll of her eyes, Vanessa turned to go, her ponytail swishing. "Get to class, Adams. You wouldn't want to be late for math."

I scoffed and followed her out the door. "For sure. I hope you blow something up in science, preferably your head."

Vanessa gave me a smirk. "Jason's coming over tonight, so if I blow anything, it'll be him."

I gagged as we parted ways, clutching the strap of my backpack that was swung over my shoulder. I took my phone out of my pocket and quickly sent her a text:

S: Make sure you use protection slut, we don't want you getting any bigger, do we?

A few seconds later my phone vibrated with a reply:

V: As if you'd know anything about sex

S: You'd be surprised 

She wouldn't be surprised. 

I'm still a virgin, unlike most of the girls in our grade. I've never even had a first kiss, but she didn't need to know that.

V: Prove it

S: Bit of a bad time, don't you think? People might stare at us

1:47 PM READ 

I laughed to myself as I walked down the hallway to the hell which is the math classroom. Either she rolled her eyes or was too flustered to respond, but knowing Vanessa, she probably wanted to ignore it either way. 

I was confused though. Why would she accept my invitation to work with her more? Yes, money is nice, but she can't stand my company, let alone work with me for God knows how long. It was strange, but the thought of us alone together made my heart do somersaults, which I still wasn't used to. 

In a perfect world, she'd feel the same way, but come on. It's Vanessa. She doesn't swing that way, and even if she did, I'm the last person she would pick. There are tons of cute lesbians in this town, as unaccepting as it can be.

\---

As I entered the classroom and sat down in my seat, I couldn't stop thinking about her and how she looked when I grabbed her arm. She looked taken aback but didn't actually push my arm away for at least five seconds. 

Those five seconds would be the extent of our relationship, that's for sure.

My heart sank a bit when I remembered that no matter how much I swoon over her, that won't change the fact that she thinks of me as nothing.

And I guess I just have to accept that, even if working with her on Friday makes it one million times harder.

\---


	7. Chapter 7

\---

Convincing Owen to let me borrow the key was fucking exhausting, let me tell you. 

He was positive that it wasn't allowed and kept reminding me that if we got caught, he'd have his privileges revoked and that the both of us would have detention for at least a month. I guess that allowing students to have unlimited access to one of the most technologically advanced rooms in the school isn't something that the administration agrees with. 

Huh, who knew?

And yeah, I understand why he's wary of letting me have the keys for a day. The last time I borrowed something from him, I didn't give it back for at least a month. It's not like I purposely kept it, I just forgot. To be fair, he knew that I'm forgetful when it comes to favours, so really, it isn't my fault. 

However, after much negotiation and promises to protect the key with my life, Owen agreed to let me borrow it for Friday when I was meeting Vanessa. Part of me thinks that the only reason he actually let me use his key is because of my crush on Vanessa. Ever since I told him and Marie about my feelings for her, they've been going on and on about how it's meant to be. We had to do a group facetime call on Wednesday after Vanessa agreed to record more episodes with me.

I required some serious reassurance that everything was going to work out, because all I could think about was what I was going to say to her, and how I was going to ignore the panicking sensation in my chest. Marie's always been excellent at giving pep-talks, but with her very limited experience at relationships, she said that she wasn't sure what to tell me. I don't think Marie's ever seriously had a crush on someone, so when Owen would rant about the many cute guys in his chemistry class, she would just nod and smile. I just hope that she's doing alright because as peppy and pastel-witchy as she is, her life hasn't exactly been a bowl of roses. 

I've had a few crushes before, but they've never resulted in anything, and now that I have a crush on a girl, I'm even more lost than usual. Is there some sort of lesbian mating ritual I don't know about? Do I buy her flowers, or that too traditional? If I do buy her flowers, do I get her violets, the flower of the gays, or is that too much symbolism? I don't want to come off too strong in this hypothetical situation in which we're dating. 

So yeah, I'm fairly certain that Owen let me borrow his key solely because he wants to see me get a girlfriend. And to be honest, I'd like to see me get a girlfriend as well but that's not going to happen anytime soon so we'll cry about that later tonight. 

But for now, I was sitting in math class, tapping my foot anxiously as I stared at the clock on the wall. Time seemed to be like molasses, and all I wanted to do was get to that recording booth and make another episode with Vanessa. We had been texting a bit last night and agreed that we would post it on Spotify, as well as the Miami Radio station so that it reached a wider spread of viewers.

As the teacher droned on about calculus, I stopped staring at the clock and started absentmindedly gazing around the room. I knew a few people in this class, but not well enough to consider them friends. I glanced out the window and spotted the track, where the grade eleven gym class was doing laps. Trees lined the edge of the property, and I could just make out a few students sitting under them, probably pretending to read while taking in the warm October air. 

I stared at the blackboard, the equations swirling around on the surface as Mr. Winters was finishing the note on the board. I was anxious to be out of here as fast as possible, but after looking at the clock for the tenth time in the last five minutes, it became apparent that I was stuck here for another ten torturous minutes. 

\---

Eventually, the bell rung and I all but leapt out of my seat. I was annoyed with myself on one hand because I really shouldn't be excited to work with someone who was and still is, mean to me. But on the other hand, she is a pretty girl who agreed to work with me and even though she's doing it for the money, a small part of me hoped it was because she wanted to see me again. 

I gathered my things and swung my backpack over my shoulder before filing out of the classroom with my peers and entering the now-bustling corridor. 

I made my way down the hallway and dipped into the Broadcasting Room as fast as I could. As I entered, I spotted Owen, who was packing up the club's equipment for the night. He grinned at me and wiggled his eyebrows. "Have fun tonight, Sky."

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up. It's not like anything will happen-"

"What's not happening?"

I turned around and came face to face with Vanessa, who was standing just inside the doorway. 

After swallowing hard, I shook my head. "Nothing. Just Drama class stuff."

She shrugged. "Alright then," before turning her attention to Owen. "Nice to see you again, Arnold."

"Owen." I corrected her, going to open the sound booth's door. 

She gave me a sideways glance and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Heh, right. Owen."

He just laughed and picked up his box of equipment, moving to store them in the supply closet across the room. "You too Vanessa."

Once Owen had gathered his things and finished tidying the room, he waved to me before heading for the door. "Remember to lock up, guys. I don't want to be suspended for this."

"We will," Vanessa assured him, walking over to me and leaning against the booth's door frame. 

Owen smiled and gave me a smug look, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. 

After he had left, Vanessa and I entered the booth, closing the door behind us. Before he had left, Owen had also turned off the main lights in the big room so that we wouldn't be as obvious. 

"So," I started, "What should we talk about?"

Vanessa pulled her laptop out of her bag and turned it on. "I dunno. You're the one who begged me to do this."

I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head. "I didn't beg. You said yes."

"Yeah, after you grabbed my arm."

I chuckled. "Sure. Whatever you say, Nessa." My eyes met hers which caused my heart to beat quicker. 

Vanessa's face seemed to flush as she glared at me. "Don't call me that."

A smirk appeared on my face. "Okay, Nessa."

She inhaled. "Fine then. Be a dick. I'm calling you Sky."

"Hey, only my friends can call me that!"

She glanced around and opened a tab on her laptop. Without looking up from the screen, Vanessa nodded. "Exactly."

I gulped and looked her way with a quizzical look on my face. "Sorry what?"

Vanessa looked up from her laptop and her eyes met mine again. "Hm?"

"You, uh, um, said we were friends."

"Mhm. I did."

I continued to look at her, confused. "So....we're friends?"

Vanessa sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "You're an idiot, you know that? Yeah, we're friends."

"Oh," I replied, looking over her shoulder at the screen. "Cool."

On the inside, I was ecstatic because this most certainly is cool. 

We were actual friends! I guess that's why she accepted my invitation. 

Very cool indeed.

\---


End file.
